


your castle hollow and cold

by distanceseventeen



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Fate, Free Will, Gen, Neurodivergent Kris, No Romance, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distanceseventeen/pseuds/distanceseventeen
Summary: It would be much, much easier if Kris could hate Ralsei.
Relationships: Kris & Ralsei (Deltarune)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 72





	your castle hollow and cold

**Author's Note:**

> _An old fairytale told me  
>  A simple heart will be prized again  
> A toad will be our king and  
> Ugly ogres are our heroes then_  
> -Keane, "The Frog Prince"
> 
>   
> Written for kopell on Tumblr, and inspired by [ this lovely little fic.](https://krispdreemurr.tumblr.com/post/180636481189/the-conversation-kris-and-ralsei-had-while-we-were)

"Where did you even learn to make tea?" Kris asks. "Were you, like, brought into being knowing how?"

"The castle library has many books," Ralsei replies. He finishes pouring the water into Kris' teacup and sits back. "I've read most of them."

"So you knew how to read when you were created."

"Yes."

"Weird skill set. Literacy, but no tea making? Whatever made you definitely has skewed priorities."

Kris expects a laugh, but they only get a smile. Feeling a bit foolish, they grab a tea biscuit from the tin. It's their fourth since sitting down. The cinnamon-butterscotch taste almost makes up for the awkwardness they feel.

He's clearly put in some effort to make this sitting room cozy. There's a cross stitch with the words 'Stay Determined' hanging on a nearby wall. A knit blanket is thrown across one of the couches, and on the side table next to it, a well-worn book sits. More books line a bookshelf on another wall. Kris thinks that the place looks like a grandma's living room, considering the rigid furniture and ornate knicknacks, but Ralsei's personal touches make it nicer. They could almost forget it's a castle. They feel out of place here, with their wild hair and grubby hands. Yet Ralsei smiles at them like it doesn't matter.

"So, what kind of tea did you bring for me?" he asks.

"Golden flower. It's my dad's favorite. He harvests it himself." They look down into their cup. The water is slowly turning a dark bluish-black. "What about this?"

"Oh, it's from Dark Candy trees. It took me some trial and error, but I figured out how to make something really good from it. I think you'll like it, Kris."

They shrug one shoulder. "We'll see."

There's silence. They finish their biscuit and trace their fingertips across the rim of their teacup. Like everything else in the castle, it's beautiful. They wonder if the same magic that made Ralsei also created everything here, or if it all belonged to someone else first. They haven't really asked. 

"So your dad likes tea," Ralsei prompts. 

"Yeah. He always says it's an art form to brew a proper cup. He taught me when I was little."

They remember it, albeit indistinctly, cobbled together from a hundred identical instances. He'd let them carry the kettle to the stove, lifting them up so they could place it on the the right burner. They would always pick the tea and measure out the leaves, and he would always pick the biscuits. As the water boiled, they'd sit and chat quietly with him. Asriel didn't like tea much, and Mom only liked tea when Dad made it, so the activity had always belonged only to Kris and their dad. They'd loved those times. It had been nice, to sit in the quiet with him, to feel the full force of his attention focused on them. They'd enjoyed the knowledge that they were treasured far more than they'd ever enjoyed the actual drink.

They don't remember the last time they had a cup of tea, now. It's been years.

"I see. Do you also share his enthusiasm for tea?"

"It's not really my thing."

"Oh! I'm very sorry, then. I didn't mean to pressure you into something you don't enjoy. You should have spoken up. We could have done something you liked more."

"I don't mind it. Besides, we… haven't hung out one-on-one. Not for more than a few minutes, anyway." They exhale. Their fingers keep tracing their cup. "Not when I'm myself."

They knew this would be awkward. They'd wanted to try anyway. Despite the bitter snarl of emotion they have surrounding Ralsei, they know he didn't ask to be made the way he was. It would be unfair to avoid him because of something he can't control. 

It would be much, much easier if they could hate Ralsei. They can't. In the same way that he was made to dislike violence and believe in mercy, he was also made to be impossible to hate. Lovability radiates out from him like the sun generates light. They can no more escape the force of his charisma than a planet can escape the gravity of its star.

So, instead of the simplicity of hatred, Kris is full of conflicting emotion. Pity, kinship, envy, bitterness, admiration, sorrow, understanding. They know what he is. He knows what they are. It's the strangest thing in the world to sit here and drink tea in his hollow castle, hiding their truths under the table and drowning their bitterness in butterscotch biscuits.

"No, I guess we haven't," he says easily. "It's a shame. You're good company."

They simply nod.

"So tell me more about your family! I'm curious."

Kris studies him. He looks utterly sincere. "Did you invite me here because you were told to help me work through my family problems?"

It's his turn to look down, an embarrassed flush coming to his cheeks. He coughs quietly into his sleeve. "Well, um…"

It shouldn't hurt, but it does anyway. They grab another biscuit. As long as they're here, enduring this interview, they may as well take advantage of his cooking.

"I was made to help you," he finally says. It's very soft. He doesn't fidget, the way they would, keeping his hands quietly in his lap. "Helping you talk through your issues is instrumental to my role in the party. I'm a healer. It's what I _do._ It's what I want to be."

He finally looks up at them. There's a tiny, sweet smile on his face. "But that doesn't mean I don't care about you personally, Kris. I want to help you, not just because I was created for a purpose. You're my friend. I hope you can see me as a friend too. Despite how unusual our circumstances are."

"Is that everything?"

He blushes harder. "Well. No. I like hearing about people's families. It's easier to pretend I actually have one that way, you see."

They try to push down their sudden pity. He's far too easy to feel sorry for. It's always worse because of how serene he is. His domain is that of wistful, gentle longing, not the wild, tortured emotions Kris possesses. They know he'll sweetly endure his loneliness until the day he finally disappears. They don't know if that's better or worse than their own useless pounding on the doors of destiny. They want to hug him. 

"I don't want to," they finally say. "Don't you see how fucked up this is, Ralsei? The kid I should have been, asking me why my family doesn't love me the way they should? What is that even supposed to accomplish, except making things even more twisted?"

"My instructions say that nobody can choose who they are in this world. You haven't accepted that yet. You need to flush out that wound before you can stitch it up. You need to see… well." He spreads his hands. His smile is light itself. "The person you wanted to be. The person you think your family would have loved more. You need to accept what never could have been. And you need to realize you're happier being as you are."

"Being possessed," they correct. "Not being what I actually am. You want me to accept that I'll always be overruled. Bit of a contradiction, don't you think?"

"Oh no, not at all! You will become what you were meant to become as soon as you accept your fate. You'll put all your issues in the past. You'll be _healed_ , Kris. Healed as though your wounds never happened. It's written in the legend. I wish you could see it. You'll be so, so happy."

"You don't know _shit_ about me if you think that. Your legend's wrong. I could never be happy. Not in a cage."

He meets their eyes. They don't look away. There's hurt in his face at their rejection, a sweet smile on his mouth, and the certainty of fate behind his eyes. The belief that they will someday be willingly chained as he is runs deep, hardwritten into his code. They can't find a single doubt in him. Only pain that they don't see it the way he does.

Fundamentally, Ralsei is kind. Fundamentally, Ralsei is unselfish. He isn't doing this because he hates them. He's doing it because he loves them. It's more terrible than it would be if he wanted to hurt them. At least then they would be able to hate him. At least then they wouldn't feel sorry for him.

Kris looks down into their cooling tea again. Quietly, they say, "I don't want to fight you. I'd much rather… just be your friend. Without either of us giving up our free wills."

"Then don't. You can choose to accept this. There's a beautiful serenity that comes when you accept your destiny, Kris. The legend promises it."

"Have you found it?"

"Of course," he says, much too brightly. "Why wouldn't I have?"

They don't reply. Their silence speaks for them.

After a too-long moment, he says, "Let's not discuss this today. Our tea is probably oversteeped. We can talk about something else. You can tell me all about your Light World teas."

 _Pretending your problems don't exist so we can smooth over the rough patches,_ Kris thinks, the thoughts infused with both pity and bitterness. _My family would have loved having you for a kid._

They remove the tea bag and lift the cup to their lips. The tea slides over their tongue, sweet to the point of sickness, hot to the point of pain. They don't know if the taste is because it's oversteeped, as Ralsei said. They think that's just how things are down here.

He sets his own teacup down and offers them a kind smile. "Would you like another biscuit?"

Kris swallows their sip and nods. They don't smile. "That would be nice. Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave a comment down below or at my [ Tumblr](https://a-town-called-hometown.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
